


Heart on Your Sleeve

by bibliophileemily



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gift Fic, Pirates, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2020-06-29 19:39:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19837177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bibliophileemily/pseuds/bibliophileemily
Summary: What’s a pirate without tattoos? Milah finds a permanent place on Killian’s ship–-and in his heart.





	Heart on Your Sleeve

**Author's Note:**

  * For [swansjollyroger](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=swansjollyroger).



An hour before dawn, Killian Jones would usually be in his quarters, but this morning, he was up on deck, half-dressed and scowling at his first mate.

“What d'you mean, Bowie’s left?” he snapped, drawing his coat tighter around him. “We’ve been in port two days, and I’ve already lost half my crew!”

“More than half,” Mr. Cooks corrected. “Jigger’s not in his bunk either. But he’s probably out drinkin’ somewheres.”

“Good riddance then…Jigger’s never been a good navigator.” Killian rubbed his temple with his left hand. “I don’t understand why the hell I can’t keep any decent crewmen though.”

“Can’t imagine why not,” Cooks said, mumbling something under his breath as he walked away.

He wasn’t as quiet as he thought; Killian distinctly caught the words “captain’s whore” and grabbed him by the front of his tattered smock and lifted him into the air.

“Care to say that to my face? Milah is no prostitute.”

“No, captain, but the crew thought you’d leave her behind long ago. She’s been here almost six months now, and it’s bad luck to have a woman aboard!”

“Bad luck? Bad luck?!” Killian roared. “ _I’m_ the captain! _I’ll_ decide what’s bad luck on _my_ ship!”

“Of course, captain; understood,” Cooks stammered; as soon as Killian dropped him, he scuttled away to the wheel, smart enough to know that when the captain was upset, it was best to get out of the way.

Killian stormed below deck, still fuming. It didn’t matter what his crew thought; this was _his_ ship! Damn them all and hang their silly superstitions! He had a right mind to fire his entire crew and get new men, men who were a little more forward-thinking and…

He paused his thoughts when he reached his quarters; Milah was still asleep in his bed, and the first light of dawn shone through the porthole on one naked shoulder left exposed by the blankets. The sight left him breathless; she certainly wasn’t the first women he’d had in his quarters, but sometimes, when he saw her like this, Killian was sure she’d be the last.

He leaned over to kiss that shoulder, smiled when Milah stirred and slowly woke up. The past six months, everything had been different. Killian saw the world through new eyes—her eyes. Plunder and booty weren’t just bartering items, but exotic treasures, and a stop in port wasn’t just the time to replenish supplies, but an opportunity for discovery and exploration.

Killian had never been in love before, so he had no way to recognize the signs that he was deeply and thoroughly entrenched in it.

“Killian,” Milah said, her voice still sleepy. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” _How did she always know?_

“No, it’s something.” She reached for her chemise and slipped it on; Killian craned his neck for a glimpse at her breasts, but she was too quick for him. “Why don’t you want to tell me?”

“It hardly concerns you, love,” he said, tossing her a bodice when she reached for it. “Just some issues with the crew.”

“Oh?” She slid out of bed and pulled on a skirt. “What’s happened?”

“It's…well, a few of my men left without my permission. Not that I much mind—they weren’t quite up to snuff…”

“Your crewmen are _deserting_ you?” Milah’s eyes narrowed, a bad sign because it always preceded her anger. “For what reason?”

Killian was caught; he couldn’t admit the actual reason without incurring Milah’s wrath, but if he lied and she found out…

“They must not agree with the new cook,” he said with a jovial grin. “Now, come on; finish getting dressed so we can go for a walk; we haven’t been ashore once since we stopped and—”

“It’s because of me, isn’t it?” Milah asked. “They don’t want to stay because of me.”

“That’s not it.”

“Don’t lie to me! I see the way they look at me when I come out of your room; it’s like I’m diseased!”

“You’re imagining it.”

That was exactly the wrong thing to say; Milah’s temper exploded.

“ _Imagining_ it? You think I’m imagining it? I’ve spent the past six years as an outcast because of Rumplestiltskin; you think I don’t know when I’m being treated like one again?” She shook her head, lips pressed into a narrow line. “Tell me why this is happening; what have I done wrong?”

“You’ve done nothing wrong…”

“Then why am I unwelcome on your ship?”

“It’s a stupid superstition,” Killian explained, trying his best to use a soothing tone. “Really, Milah, you needn’t worry over it…”

“It directly affects my life; how dare you tell me not to worry over it!” she shouted.

“I’m only saying that it shouldn’t matter what my crew thinks about you!” Killian shouted back. “They’re bastards, every one! You should only worry about what _I_ think!”

“If I’m going to live with you on this ship, then their opinions _do_ matter. I can’t be cast out like that, I just can't…” Milah burst into frustrated tears and buried her face in her hands.

“Milah…” Killian crossed the room to try to comfort her.

“Don’t come near me! Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner so I could have done something?”

“Done something? What could you do? You can’t change yourself into a man!”

“I could have joined your crew instead of staying here as your whore.”

Killian winced at the word.

“You think I don’t hear them calling me that? That they see me as a worthless burden only here because of the captain’s whim and that I’ll soon be gone?” She was sobbing by now, but she was still too angry to let him comfort her. Even after only six months, Killian knew that the best way to cope with Milah’s temper was to weather out the storm. Instead, he sank into a chair next to the bed and waited for her to finish calming down.

“You have no idea what it’s like to have people look at you with their eyes full of hatred,” she continued. “And all I wonder is how long before you’ll look at me that way.”

“Never. It will never happen.” Killian finally made his move and wrapped his arms around her. “I would never treat you like that.”

“I know,” Milah said, leaning her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right, love.”

“It’s just that…that’s why I ran away with you in the first place, to escape the judgmental eyes and the looks everywhere I went…”

“Really? And here I thought you ran away with me because you liked me.”

Milah finally smiled. “I _do_ like you.”

“Do you now?” Killian matched her grin as he pulled her down onto the bed with him. “Care to show me how much?”

An hour later, Killian traced his fingers down the curve of her hip. “If this is how all our arguments end,” he said irreverently, “I wouldn’t mind if you got angry at me more often.”

“Oh, stop it,” she said, swatting his hands away. “I just realized something.”

“What?”

“For a pirate, you are curiously lacking in markings.”

“Markings?” Killian casually glanced at his shoulder. “You’ve left quite a few on me, actually.”

“Not what I meant.” Milah pointed to his chest. “You don’t have any tattoos. Most pirates are covered in them. Why aren’t you?”

“Well…” He took her hand and kissed it. “That’s because tattoos show your loyalty to your greatest love. It’d be a little strange to have my ship tattooed on my arse, wouldn’t it?”

“I suppose so…” She sighed and leaned back against the pillow. “Killian, I was serious about what I said earlier, about belonging on this ship. I don’t care what it takes, but I _am_ going to join your crew.”

“Are you sure? Pirates can be a rough sort, and the work is dangerous and…”

“I don’t care; if I’m going to live here, I need to truly be a part of what’s going on around me.”

Killian sighed; Milah was going to have her way whether he liked it or not. “Whatever you say, love.”

* * *

Change happened slowly. Milah came up on deck more often, allowing the entire crew to see that she was here to stay and completely unafraid of them.

Then she learned to sail. Killian showed her the ropes—literally—as she learned to tie knots, to secure rigging, when to let the sails out and when to pull them in. He taught her the difference between port and starboard and showed her how to navigate using the stars.

The crew was skeptical as they watched her, but she took to the work with all the gusto of a new hire, tucking her skirts up and swabbing the deck with the lowest cabin boy and climbing up the mast to the crow’s nest to sight land with her sharp eyes. When she wasn’t busy learning, she taught the cook how to use spices, greatly improving the food, and drew portraits of the men, some of whom had never seen their own likenesses before.

Within a month, she had earned the grudging respect of all hands on board.

“So,” she began one night after Killian had retired to his quarters with his customary flask of rum,“ have I proven myself worthy of _The Jolly Roger_?”

“I’d say you have,” Killian replied, knocking back a shot. “The men can’t stop talking about how you managed to make the food here edible.”

Milah smiled. “Then I’m part of your crew now?”

“Not quite.” He got up from the table. “You’re one hell of a sailor, but you’re not a pirate.”

Milah put her hands on her hips and stared at him with narrowed eyes. “And what exactly is the difference?”

“If a sailor sees something he wants, he saves up his money for it. But a pirate…he takes it.”

“So…to become a pirate, I have to steal something?”

“Aye.”

“Tell me when and where,” she said, eyes bright with confidence. “I’m ready.”

* * *

“Trousers?” Killian stared bewildered at the spoils Milah had brought back from her first raid. “Perhaps you misunderstood—pirates usually steal things like gold, jewels…some sort of treasure.”

“I have enough jewelry for now,” she said, immediately changing into her plundered clothing. “These are much more practical. They’re sturdy, well-made…a pair of trousers of this quality should last me at least a decade.”

Killian had half a mind to protest, but the other half was too busy admiring Milah’s new silhouette.

“You have a point; skirts _are_ less practical,” he said, reaching out and pulling her close. “Although I’ve a feeling these are going to be much harder to remove…” He bent to kiss her, but Milah ducked and pushed away from him.

“Have I finally passed all your tests?” she asked. “Am I part of your crew?”

“Of course you are, love; they accepted you ages ago.”

She shook her head. “Yes, but Killian, am I good enough for _you_?”

“Milah, what’s this about?”

“I love you.” It was the first time she’d said so; Killian felt his heart skip a beat. “And I want to be with you on this ship for the rest of my life…but only if you’ll have me.”

Killian donned his trademark wicked grin and scooped her up. “Oh, I’ll have you…every morning and every night!” he teased.

“Killian!” She was starting to get angry, so he set her down, smile faded by now.

“I…love you too,” he said at last. He’d never said those words before to anyone. “There’s no one and nothing more important to me than you.”

“Would you be willing to make such a statement publicly?”

Killian was taken aback. “You mean marriage?”

“What? No! Gods, no! I’ve had my fill of marriage…I had something else in mind.” She pulled out a folded sheet of paper and showed Killian what she’d drawn upon it.

“I like it,” he said after he’d examined it. “We’ll have it done next time we sight land.”

* * *

He was true to his word; a fortnight later found Killian with his right arm held carefully away from him. He hardly flinched as the needle pierced his skin again and again, slowly inking the image Milah had designed for his first tattoo: a heart with a scroll around it bearing her name. Overly sentimental, perhaps, but Killian couldn’t help grinning as he watched Milah wince each time her own arm was pierced to create his tattoo’s twin.

That night, they held up their still-bloody forearms and admired the work.

“It looks even better on us than it did on paper,” Milah sighed, running her thumb over his name. “Although it seems a little incomplete…”

“I don’t think so. What more could it need?” Killian kissed her cheek. “Your name written on my heart…can’t imagine what else it could want.”

“I don’t know, something…” Milah wiped a drop of blood from the “K” in Killian’s name. “I’m glad we did this; now, no matter what happens, we’ll always be together.”

“Aye…that we will.”

* * *

It seemed an entire lifetime passed before Killian found out what was missing. Milah’s son himself told him; when Baelfire revealed the answer to finally killing his crocodile, the wretched Rumplestiltskin who took Milah away from him forever, Killian knew what he had to do.

As _The Jolly Roger_ sailed back to the Enchanted Forest, Killian ran the tip of his hook over her name, wishing that he had moved more quickly, that he could have somehow stopped the Dark One from reaching into her chest and pulling out her heart and crushing it into dust. Death was almost too good for the likes of him, but Killian was still determined to have vengeance; Milah deserved at least that much.

“Come on, Smee,” he said to his new first mate as they reached their destination, the same port where he and Milah had sat side-by-side and received their tattoos. “I have to have this done before I find him.”

He’d been in Neverland too long; the man who worked on him last was long dead, and it was his grandson who inked the image of the Dark One’s dagger going through the heart on Killian’s wrist; with each prick of the needle, Killian swore to stab Rumplestiltskin as many times with the dagger and then half as many again with his hook. He’d spent the past century mourning Milah; now, his arm reflected the true condition of his heart: broken and completely devoted to her and his revenge.

**Author's Note:**

> Millian doesn't get enough love.
> 
> First published on Tumblr (1/4/15) as a Once Upon a Secret Santa gift for swansjollyroger.


End file.
